


Don’t you feel any guilt? [Dream SMP]

by windela



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Death, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Roleplay, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windela/pseuds/windela
Summary: Dream is stuck in the prison, only left with his own thoughts and empty books to write in. Yet Ranboo’s voice lurks in his thoughts, telling him of all the horrible things he’s done. (follow @wiindela on twitter for bonus writing!)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Don’t you feel any guilt? [Dream SMP]

Dream sat there on the hard obsidian floor, empty pages of books sprawled out on the base of the prison cell. His breaths were shaky as he held the quill softly in his hand, but he didn’t have the passion to raise it from the ground. 

“So.” 

Dream’s eyes slightly opened. His position did not move, nor did his expression change. 

“Who are you?” Dream didn’t recognize the voice. Although it did sound slightly familiar. 

“I thought you’d know by now.” 

Dream shifted his position, sighing. “Sure. Okay then. What do you want?” 

“Nothing really. Just here to tell you about some things. Start writing those books.” 

“I’m not going to write books for a dumb child about stupid things.” Dream looked over at the sprawled out pages and books laid around his cell, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“You see, you’re using these descriptive words to describe a kid that’s annoyed you, even though you’ve put him through far deeper emotional trauma. You’re using these words as an excuse for your own actions, even though there was really no reason for you to do these torturous things. There’s no need to try to convince me you were in the right. You know you aren’t.” 

Dream stayed silent, perplexed by this voice’s response. He dropped the quill, and stood up. 

“Where are you?” Dream said, looking around the cell. “There’s no way for you to be here. Sam’s not letting in any visitors.” 

“I’m not here. I’m you.” 

Dream stopped dead cold. “That’s not possible. I don’t have any voices in my head.” 

“Let’s move on. Tell me, why is it fun? Why did you choose to do it?” 

Dream took a step back, slightly crushing the book underneath his foot. “Well you see,” Dream laid back against the wall again. 

“It’s fun to see all those who’s wronged me suffer. Revenge is a sweet thing, don't you think? Everyone wants to be treated fairly, so it only makes sense that those who go against me suffer in return, learning their lesson that I am always in control. Always one step ahead.” 

“Yet they only went to build a sweet home, to grow friendship and unity.”

“They wanted to rebel, and to hurt my friends. To hurt everyone. They would’ve caused destruction every which way they went. Caused even more conflict.” Dream sighed. 

“They were just kids.” 

“Children or not, teaching them lessons and showing them consequences of their actions is the only way to solve it.” 

“Then why did you keep going? Hadn’t they already learned their lesson the first time?” 

“They called me a villain Ranboo. They called me a tyrant for trying to keep unity. They preached out twisted and vile things to others, trying to lead them on this facade that they were the greatest. They played me out as the bad guy. So I became one.” Dream chuckled, “I played right into their act. Their little show they displayed. Thought i’d give it a try. There would be no convincing them otherwise that I was right. So I let them have a try. Let them have a chance at victory.” 

“Keep writing.”

Dream looked down at the books on the floor again, and sighed, annoyed. He picked up one of the books, grabbing the quill, and started writing down the answers to the prompts he was given. 

“They always tell you that the villain is in the wrong when you’re younger. But it just depends on what point of view you’re looking from. If you understand what I mean.” Dream said aloud, stopping his writing. 

“Yes yes, I understand. But don’t you feel any guilt per say? Traumatizing this child who didn’t know any better? Torturing him? Lying to him?” 

“Of course he knew BETTER.” Dream yelled, clenching the quill tighter in his hands. “Yet he refused to listen, so I broke him down more, to be under my control. It doesn’t matter the process of trying to get to your end point. All that matters is that the goal is achieved. Control over my server again.” 

“Does control even matter anymore?” He said in a slithering way. “Like you’ve said before, you have nothing now. All that you really have is this meaningless control. So what do you do once you have it all? Everybody hates you already. You gave them up. You ruined your opportunity.” 

“Control isn’t meaningless. When I have control, I can do what I want. I can have fun again.” Dream tensed, grasping onto the book intensely, while his hand shook holding the quill. 

“Yet you have no one.” He laughed, his deep voice echoing through the tiny cell. 

Dream grabbed his head, digging his fingernails into his hair as the laughs continuously echoed in his mind. 

“MAKE IT STOP!” He screamed. He hadn't heard clear thoughts in his mind for years. Let alone voices. Confusing guilt poured onto him as the laughs continued. 

“It was fun, seeing him go through pain is fun. It's fun to see him suffer. It's fun to play. It’s all just a game. It’s all just a game. You did what you had to do.” The laughs became louder and louder, he could barely hear his own thoughts. 

“They saw you as a villain, you did what you had to do. You let him become the hero, you let him play the game.” Dream’s voice became quieter as he slowly succumbed to the echoing of the pitying laughter. Letting it drown out his own reasoning, he held himself tight and let the horrendous sound continue through the night.


End file.
